Zarathustra In Aphelion

[MiniKitty]

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Zarathustra In Aphelion
The real man wants two different things: danger and play. Therefore he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything.

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Madeleine slowly opened her eyes. Her head hurt. Everything hurt. Dizzy, confused. Red light, alarm sirens bleeping. The unmistakable taste of sanguine iron. Vision blurry, tiny bubbles, lens flares, spiders and bugs at walls, moving at the same speed as head and eyes, only to vanish.

A spicy scent in the air. Coals and ashes, plastic, molten metals, aggressive vinegar, the stench of chemical cleaners. Muscles aching, face hot, blood rushing. She came to, flickering lights disorienting her.

Levan?

But no response. She looked around, her vision sharpening more and more. The pain and dizzyness made it feel like her sensory input skipped a few frames per second. The sound of her own heart beating became louder, and her body seemed to be aware of the high level of danger surrounding her, even with her brain not consciously grasping it. Lifting her body from the floor to sit up, she recognized the familiar silhoutte of her lover. Like herself, on the floor, however him next to the wall. Red puddle around his head.

Focus on head, dolly zoom. He was bleeding. Levan was bleeding.

The subconscious mixture of adrenaline, horror, a body in pain and the relentless instinct to survive, combined with the love and fear for him, somehow allowed her body to scoot over to her loved one in blissful ignorance for the continuous cracking sound of the increasingly fragile cockpit windows. Sharp, corroding metal, unwaveringly carving deeper and deeper into the carbon glass. Clumsily, her hand sought the floor covered by Levan's blood near his head. The red liquid began sticking to her suit and her gloves. She placed her other hand on his chest, rolling him from the side on his back. Heartbeat. He is still alive. Her blood-stained hand carefully checked his head for wounds and quickly found a small one at the back of his head, oozing out blood, painting his black hair in adhesive red. Keeping her fingers on the wound, she turned her head to the side, to the cockpit windows.

Even an unexperienced spacer like her knew what would happen if these windows would give in. With irregular strength, she picked Levan up, one hand supporting his head, the other beneath his rear. With unparalleled speed, she rushed to the airlock to the corridor behind the cockpit and slammed the button to close it shut. Not a second too early, as right afterward, a loud crashing sound revealed the fate of the cockpit, which almost instantly lost all air to the merciless vacuum outside the ship.

Yet, with more and more blood leaving his head, there was no time to idle. Rushing down the hallway, heading for the cargo bay, she noticed another shutter in her way, preventing her from continuing to cargo. The window revealed there simply was no cargo bay remaining. The adrenaline in her veins kept her afloat, and while her brain seemed to be on autopilot, her instincts told her to head for engineering instead. Without hesitation, her legs moved her to the new target location, right to the first-aid-kit near the entrance. Not too carefully, she placed Levan against the wall on the floor and grabbed the kit, opening it, smearing his blood all over it. Medical pen, autoinjector, bandage, alcohol, tweezers, anti-rads. Closing the wound was imperative.

Minutes later, the rush vanished, and pain and fatigue took over. Both bodies stained with red. His head in her lap, her hand caressing his cheek. His eyes still closed. Her eyes about to, too.

I had a feeling you'd result in my demise.
You and this ship.

Did you?

Yes. People die in space by the hour.
Radiation, vacuum, cold, heat, starvation, violence.
Want me to go on?

Sure.

Sicknesses, bacteria, viruses from other planets.
Accidents aboard ships like people drowning in water bubbles in zero G.
Or how about getting split apart by airlocks?
Or depressurizing?

It happens.

Would've preferred if it didn't to us.

We have not died yet, though.

Matter of time.

If you knew you would die with me, why did you come with me?

Love makes you act silly.

Love, then?

I enjoyed not being alone. It is a nice feeling.

Worth dying for?

Do you really live without loving?

I think so. I think you are trying to convince yourself that dying like this is okay, because you cannot change it.

Maybe. Better than lamenting poor life decisions, isn't it?

Are you not desperate? Angry?

I skipped to acceptance. I can die like this.

Just like that?

What about yourself?

It is not about me.

...

Wake up.

What do you mean?

Wake up, Madeleine. Nobody dies in serenity.

















Madeleine opened her eyes again. Levan's head was still in her lap. The air still had the scent of fire in it. And yet it felt increasingly cold. The girl with the orange hair looked up, only to find a big bubble above her. A bubble of cyan-blue liquid. Only now she realized the artificial gravity had failed - otherwise that liquid have dropped onto them. Instinctively she pulled Levan up to her shoulder, with one hand holding tightly against a support rail next to her. The bubble was less than a meter away from her and seemed to get bigger and bigger with each second. The air was cold and got colder. Unbearably cold. This was, without a doubt, coolant liquid leaking into the room. Had the gravity been online, it would have gotten to them like an ice cold shower.

With the lack of gravity, carrying Levan would be a lot easier, she figured. Engineering is definitely not safe anymore. The first-aid-kit was floating away. Her grip on Levan tigthened and she pulled their bodies to the entrance, avoinding the coolant bubble as carefully as possible. The coolant leaking into the engine room would mean it would not go where it is supposed to, she figured. Very bad, and she lacked the skill to do anything about it. All she could do was to try and escape immediate death.

Pulling and pushing their bodies out of engineering and closing the door shut behind her, she took a deep breath. The emergency lights emitted red glow. Levan's wound was, for now, tended to, too. He just needs to regain consciousness. He will know what to do.

A heavy tremor shook the ship. Once again, Madeleine grabbed Levan tightly and pressed him against her chest. She gulped, floating freely with him. This ship was a wreck, nothing more. No cockpit, no engineering, no cargo bay. The rooms on the lower deck? Not reachable anymore. Who knew how long the air would suffice.

Escape pods. This ship had to have one, for sure! She had seen one before. Can't be far, she thought. With her unconscious boyfriend in tow, she used the rails at the wall to catapult herself forward. Of course she had seen the entry to the escape pod before - it was near the cockpit airlock. Was there any point in getting there, though? In the middle of this horrible storm?

It did not matter at all. The hatch opened and she carefully put Levan in it. Then she followed in and closed the hatch behind her. Quite tight in here, with him. Maybe these things were supposed to be for only one person? She had not seen another escape pod. Maybe they were just not designed for comfort. Cushioned walls. Incredibly soft to the touch. Some kind of warm gel behind them? She had no idea. All that mattered was being in here, with him. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she took another deep breath. His own perfume had mixed with the scent in the air.

More and more sounds of cracking hull panels, right behind her.

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